


Frosting

by GoldenTruth813



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 12:21:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4479050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenTruth813/pseuds/GoldenTruth813
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Harry's Birthday and Draco wants to take him out to celebrate, but things don't ever seem to go according to plan when it involves Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frosting

At precisely six Draco apparated home, directly into the kitchen. He’d expected to find Harry in there. Harry was always in the kitchen; eating, cooking, cleaning. Draco thought Harry had a strange obsession with the kitchen, but as it meant Draco always ate very well and didn’t have to cook or clean he was truly rather pleased about it.

The sight that greeted him however was a bit of a surprise. Draco couldn’t decide whether to smile or frown as he took in the scene before him. The counters were covered in various mixing bowls, there was a dusting of flour on just about ever surface and the oven was glowing and making that funny beeping sound which Draco knew meant Harry was cooking something. Not to mention the smell; the entire flat smelled like heaven. And Draco knew what he was making, he knew the second he smelled it; it was a cake. Though he couldn’t figure out why for the life of him Harry was making a cake on his own birthday. Especially as Draco was quite certain he mentioned fancy dinner plans before he’d left that morning. And he’d left a note in Harry’s robe pocket to make sure he didn’t forget. 

Draco had specifically told Harry not to cook; told him he’d be home at exactly six and to be ready. Draco had planned the evening quite carefully. He’d made reservations at a very nice wizarding establishment and had planned on charming the pants off Harry all night until they came out blissfully happy and drunk. It was a wonderful plan, or so Draco had thought. Unfortunately it didn’t like his plan was going to go quite as he’d hoped.

He walked towards the stove and peered inside another bowl sitting on the edge of the counter. There was mounds of thick, fluffy white frosting. Draco couldn’t help himself he stuck a finger in it, sticking it into his mouth and letting out a sigh as the sweetness enveloped his tongue. Harry really was a wonderful cook. It had shocked Draco more than anything else when they had first gotten together. Even more shocking, at least as far as Draco was concerned, was the fact that Harry liked to do it all the muggle way. No magic in the kitchen he’d said once. Draco hadn’t understood. Yet as the years passed it became something incredible. Draco had grown to look forward to Sunday mornings when he knew he would walk into the kitchen in the morning and find Harry making something delicious, no doubt wearing nothing but an apron. Those morning whatever Harry was cooking usually burned and it wasn’t Draco’s fault. No it was always Harry’s fault for being so utterly delicious, at least that what’s Draco always told him. Or all the other times he would apparate home after a long day feeling angry and tense, but the second he was home he would smell something amazing cooking and he would relax. It wasn’t really the food, though it was truly delicious. No, if Draco was honest about it, it was what the act itself represented. It was the fact that Harry spent so much time and energy doing it for Draco. Oh sure Draco was used to being waited on and fawned over in his lifetime. But he’d never had someone go to so much effort just to please him. It did something funny to Draco’s chest every time he thought about Harry doing something just for him; taking care of him.

Draco was startled out of his thought process as he realized the oven was beeping at him rather loudly. “Shut up,“ he muttered, tapping the oven with his wand rather aggressively. He frowned when it continued to beep rather angrily at him.   
Just then Harry ran in, cursing under his breath and bustling about the kitchen in a flurry. Draco stepped back, taking it all in. Harry was naked, except for a towel wrapped low around his waist, and there were tiny drops of water trickling down his back and resting in the dip at the bottom of his spine. Harry had a beautiful back, and Draco was quite enjoying his view. The only thing Draco liked better than a naked Harry was a naked and flustered Harry. That also did rather funny things to his chest when he thought about it.

“Bugger, thought I had time to shower before it would be done,” Harry mumbled, looking up at Draco a bit sheepishly.

“I’m not quite sure that’s an appropriate outfit, Harry. I’m quite sure I said dress robes. Though I do think your birthday suit is quite becoming.” 

Harry flushed, warmth spreading up his cheeks.

“You’re not mad are you? I know you said not to cook and I know I’m not actually ready yet, but,” and Harry trailed off a bit nervously. His fingers tangled into the edge of his towel and Draco was transfixed as he watched the drops of water glide down Harry’s golden chest, resting n the soft trail of dark hair below his belly button. 

“Draco?”

“Why are you making your own birthday cake?” Draco asks, tearing his away from Harry’s abdomen and congratulation himself on getting out such a coherent sentence when he’s quite sure the only real thought in his brain is fucking Harry senseless.  
“Right, well I just remember how much you loved that cake I made for your birthday.” Harry says it so earnestly, his eyes bright and smile relaxed as if it’s the most normal thing in the world for Harry to make Draco a cake on his own birthday. And there it is again, that tightness in Draco’s chest that makes him feel entirely whole and shattered all at one.

“Oh, Harry,” Draco says walking towards Harry. There is possessive look in Draco’s eyes that Harry definitely can’t miss.

Draco kisses Harry, pushing him back against the counter and pressing against him until every inch of his body is pressed into Harry’s. It’s slow at first, soft and sweet, as Draco tangles his long, delicate fingers into Harry’s still damp hair. He sighs, dragging his tongue along Harry’s bottom lip until Harry opens his mouth in a whimper and that’s all it takes before everything shifts. Draco is distinctly aware of the sound of breaking glass but he can’t be bothered to care about what it is they’ve knocked over because his mind can focus on one thing only and that one thing is Harry; has always been Harry.

Harry melts into him immediately, hooking his right leg behind Draco’s trying to pull him in even closer. Harry makes a dissatisfied noise when Draco pulls out of the embrace but Draco is fast and before Harry can open his mouth to ask why Draco has stopped Harry feels something thick being spread down his stomach. “Bugger,” Harry whispers as he looks down watching as Draco’s fingers drag a thick stripe of frosting from his belly button to the tip of his quickly hardening cock. He sucks in a breath as Draco pulls back again, looking up and smirking at Harry.

“Well you went all the trouble. It would be rude of me not to taste it,” Draco says.

Then Draco is doing things that can only be described as sinful; sucking and licking and teasing. Draco’s mouth is everywhere, sucking and licking off the frosting then leaving a trail of kisses behind. He doesn’t hesitate, wrapping his mouth around Harry’s cock and humming in satisfaction at the bitter taste of Harry’s pre-cum mixed with the overly sweet frosting. Harry moans loudly, knocking another bowl on the floor as he struggles to keep himself standing upright.   
Harry’s finger’s find their way into Draco’s hair, stroking his head as Draco’s mouth bobs back and forth taking Harry in as deep as he can and sucking a bit harder than normal to get all the frosting off. Draco knows Harry better than he knows himself, he knows he could drag this out even longer, teasing Harry until he can’t even walk or talk. Except right now all Draco can think about is making Harry lose it. He has no time for patience or games. Draco knows exactly how to please Harry, and so he does.  
It’s only a few moments later that Harry is whimpering as he slides down the kitchen cupboards to land in a heap next to Draco.

“Fuck me,” Harry whispers, grinning at Draco with the most beautiful green eyes, as he crawls onto his knees to kiss Draco.

Draco is about to respond when he notices a funny smell. Harry seems to have noticed it to because suddenly he’s jumping up, cursing and pulling a very burnt looking cake out of the oven.

“Bugger. Shit,” Harry curses, dropping the burnt cake onto the counter and frowning. Then just as suddenly he looks up at Draco, his eyes alight with mischief. “Actually, no that’s good. Great even. I have an even better idea!”

Before Draco can ask what exactly this brilliant idea is, Harry has grabbed the rest of the bowl of frosting and is dragging Draco down the hallway, and all Draco can do is grin. 

Sure, it might technically be Harry’s birthday but he’s pretty sure tonight they’re both going to get what they wish for.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in honor of Harry's birthday. :)


End file.
